Not So Smooth Operation
by eleventhwarrior125
Summary: When Alex, Casey, and George Huang go undercover, dark crimes are discovered. Elliot and Olivia are at each other's throats, and everyone's lives are on the line. R R, please!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first SVU fic, so please forgive me if I'm not right the first time around. Summary: When our two favorite ADA's (Alex and Casey), and our favorite FBI Agent (Georgie Huang), have to go undercover to undermine a human trafficking ring, the most unlikely persona's are discovered. Minjor E/O subplot. Enjoy! **

"Ladies and gentleman, I have an undercover assignment for you," Cragen announced cheerfully to the group he had gathered in the precinct building. He was holding a manila file, and a huge, shit-eating grin coated his face, lighting his eyes. Everyone, well except for the detectives, was wondering why they were gathered here. Dr. Huang, Alex Cabot, and Casey Novak, had confused looks on their faces.

"Cool, Cap, what is it? What's the op? Are me and Liv going undercover together this time? Is it a solo op?" Detective Stabler's excited face made his partner roll her eyes in amusement. He was firing questions off so quickly that he sounded like a kid on Christmas Eve. Olivia Benson was the only one Cragen had told, and that was just because she was bugging him about his big secret that had the entire squad wondering for two weeks.

"Well, we're trying to bust a human trafficking ring, that exploits minors from other countries. We've already got an informant inside, but we're going to send in some of our guys. Oh, and you aren't the ones who are going undercover," grinned Cragen, speaking to Munch, Fin, Elliot, and Olivia. Instead, he turned to George, Casey, and Alex. From the looks on their faces, they had it figured out pretty quickly. Alex's mouth was flopped open, and Casey's eyes were wide from surprise. George had the calm mask on, which, for him, meant that he was flat-out stunned.

"U-us?" Casey sputtered. "But Alex and I are prosecutors, not detectives." Her hazel eyes were glazing over, when she retreated into her mind to ponder this. George made a grunt of agreement, absolutely speechless.

"Cap, they're not trained for this, shouldn't we be doing this?" Munch inquired, wondering who this was, and what happened to their captain.

"Special Agent Huang has been, though…" Captain Cragen began.

"Yes, years ago, but I haven't had an undercover operation in a while," George interrupted. "I agree with John, your people should be doing this."

"My people have had their faces in the paper way too much lately. My people will brief you two," Don gestured to Alex and Casey, "on the proper procedures. You'll have a wire on you only for a couple of crucial moments, so you need to be able to rely on your skills of observation. You all will also get self defense training, and a weapons permit, after a couple of trips to the shooting range. You will have _ample_ time, a month at the most, to prepare."

Don paused, took in a breath, and continued. "I wouldn't have asked this of you if I didn't think you couldn't handle it. The Brass already cleared this, so all I need is your say-so to go ahead and do this." He looked at the three people he needed for this operation. Casey was chewing on the inside of her lip, Alex looked absolutely terrified, and George looked absolutely calm.

There was a long silence, until Alex, who hadn't spoken at all yet, broke it. "I'm not doing anything until I learn more." She leaned against Liv's desk, which everyone was crowded next to. George sank into Elliot's chair, and put his chin in his hands.

Casey sighed deeply. "I knew I missed this job, I just didn't remember which aspect was so alluring. Who and what are we going as?" She paled when she glimpsed Cragen's look. "What?" she asked, knowing that look.

"That's the fun part." Cragen's smile had returned. " Alex, if you chose you accept it, you will be a Swedish immigrant who sings to scrape by." Alex looked like she had just been bitch-slapped. "Wuh-what?" She stammered, as Munch and Fin chuckled quietly. Olivia bit her lip, and Elliot grinned.

"Alex, I've heard you sing before, in your office, when I've been walking by. You're pretty good," Olivia said sheepishly. Alex looked mortified. She merely stammered, "People can hear me?"

"Casey, you'll be a Russian immigrant, and you'll be running a bodega in China Town." Casey's expression was that of someone who was attending their maternal unit's funeral, and some kid came up and told a 'yo momma' joke. Munch and Fin laughed a little louder this time, with Elliot chiming in as well. George was wearing a 'just get it over with' look.

"And, uh, George," Cragen paused to chuckle, "You get to be a trash- talking, slang- slinging, Chinese gangster." George looked absolutely murderous. The rest of the group howled with laughter, even Casey and Alex joined in. Munch was absolutely dying: bent over, clutching his stomach, tears of laughter streaming down his face. A couple of uniformed officers walking by gave them odd looks.

"Hey, dude," Munch gasped between bouts of laughter, speaking to Cragen. "Why don't we let Stabler teach anger management classes?" Even George had to laugh at that. Fin was wiping tears of laughter off his cheeks, and Munch was rubbing his ribs, wincing. After everyone had coughed out the finishing chuckles, the detectives looked expectantly at Casey, Alex, and George.

Casey was grinning, and said, with no hesitation: "I'm totally in." She was the only one in the trio who had planned on saying yes, before the laughter broke out.

Alex inhaled sharply. "Okay, but only if I don't have to sleep with dirty old men," she said finally. Munch sniggered. "Old men like you, John," she added, smiling. A chorus of "oohs", and a "Burnt!" from Fin, later, and everyone was staring expectantly at George.

George sighed, and shook his head. "Oh, fuck me sideways," he muttered under his breath. Everyone was surprised: no one had heard him say a cuss word before. "I'll do it," he paused, taking in the looks on the gleeful faces. "Only if I don't have to have a tattoo, a permanent one, anyway," he said, as if it settled the matter. The group chuckled appreciatively.

Cragen was only partially satisfied; he had something else that he wanted to take care of. Match maker was never really part of his dossier, but it was something he was willing to try out. He wanted to get them together, but how?

**AN: Hee, cliffhanger. Who is Cragen trying to get together? How will our trio react to the self defense training? Why am I not already typing up the second chapter? I will, I promise, but I won't be able to get it up until next weekend. School, you know. Reviews + criticism welcome. **


	2. Training Day

Chapter Two

**AN: I thank those who are tolerant enough to sit through another chapter. This is gonna be a REALLY fun chapter, but it's kinda long, and kinda angsty. So with most of our characters in the picture, we are going to start self defense training. A couple of surprising twists to come. Enjoy!**

Special Agent George Huang trudged grudgingly into the NYPD gym. His gym bag was slung unceremoniously across his shoulder, pinching him. He was uncomfortable, because he wasn't used to walking in public without his sweater vest, undershirt, and tie. Today, he was wearing his FBI t-shirt, and plain black sweats, and his dark blue gym shoes.

He walked past the reception desk, and flashed his badge to the attendant. The hallway opened up into one big room, full of weight machines, free weights, cardio machines, and a couple of mats. The room was aglow, for the huge windows let in streams of sunlight. George spotted six people on the mats, and recognized five of them.

Olivia and Elliot were standing side by side, and sporting well-used athletic gear. Alex and Casey were leaned against the wall, which was perpendicular to the mat, and were wearing clean jogging suits. An unfamiliar male, presumably the instructor stood in the middle, his feet squared, and his well-muscled arms folded over his chest. His expression was lacking, and it remained so when he spotted George, and waved him over.

George trotted over, his bag weighing him down. "You're late," was all the man growled. Elliot rolled his eyes, and it was apparent that his irritation of the man was instantaneous. The man was obviously thinking that he could whup everyone's asses, so he didn't take anyone here seriously. He eyed George with obvious malice, and was undressing Casey and Alex with his ugly gaze. This did not go unnoticed by the women.

The man cleared his throat, and began: "Captain Cragen told me to come here and train you all in self defense. Frankly, I have no idea why I'm even trying. A couple sessions won't get you very far, but apparently it is _necessary._" The trainer scoffed, and rolled his eyes, considering this task to be below him. Next to him, George watched Alex subtly pull the screen of her cell phone out of her pocket.

From his angle, George could read: _**What a jackass- KC**_. Alex slipped her phone back into her pocket, but kept her hand inside. George could hear the clicks of the keys, and understood at once that she was texting with Casey. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Casey pulled her phone partially from her pocket, slipped it back in, and began texting. The trainer was as oblivious to texting as a high school teacher.

"So," the trainer said, "I am going to be referred to as 'sir', and in a moment you will reply to me by saying 'yes, sir'. Understand?"

"YES, SIR!" Elliot bellowed, drawing the attention of several onlookers. His expression was completely stoic, but next to him, Liv was shaking from silent giggles. Casey and Alex coughed, unable to smother a couple of chuckles. The trainer's expression was livid, and that might have influenced his next decision.

"For a warm up, you all get to show me what you know. One at a time, I will have you try to knock me to the ground with whatever moves you know," the trainer's smug smirk reflected his thought that his ass was not about to be thrown the floor. "You," he said, pointing to George, "You're first."

George gulped: he didn't know many self defense moves. When he was a kid, many of his friends joked with him, saying that he was the only Asian who didn't know karate. He stepped onto the mat, throwing his bag onto the floor next to Alex, who flashed him a thumbs up. The trainer squared his feet, and said, "Gimme a go."

Fifteen seconds later, George was lying down on the mat, the wind thoroughly knocked out of him. Elliot was rumbling with laughter when he helped him stand up. George flashed him a good natured smirk, and was resistant to his taunting laughter. The trainer scowled, and pointed at Elliot, who stopped laughing immediately. Elliot stepped tentatively on the mat. He only lasted ten seconds.

After Alex and Casey had been thrown to the ground, it was Liv's turn on the mat. Elliot prickled uneasily, ready to step in if his girl- I mean- his partner, got hurt. Liv had seen the trainer favor his left shoulder when he was helping Casey off her feet, and planned to use it to her advantage. The trainer stepped forward, his left leg coming in to swipe hers out from under her. She side stepped this, and waited a millisecond for him to swing his leg past her.

His balance was off for a second, before planting his foot on the ground, so she gave him a light shove backwards. He staggered, righted himself, and swung his arm out to the side. Liv caught his wrist, twisted it, and stepped behind him. He was leaning forward slightly, so she jabbed two fingers sharply at his left shoulder. He cried out, and tried to wriggle out of the hold, which made him fall forward even farther. Then, Liv kicked the backs of his knees, which were locked, and he fell flat on his face.

Elliot was glowing with pride, blushing, and laughing with a toothy grin. Casey and Alex were eyeing Liv with envious looks, because they hadn't been able to do that. The trainer had flipped himself over onto his back, his face flushed beetroot. An angry scowl had formed, but disappeared quickly as a thought formed in his head. Olivia's back was turned on him, so he took the opportunity to swing the legs out from under her.

She landed with an "oof!", and lay still, her back flat on the ground. Her eyes were open, but she was breathing out slowly, not moving a muscle. Elliot's face had morphed into concern. He dropped to his knees beside her, and shook her shoulder. "_Don't _touch me, Elliot. Just let me get ahold of myself for a second," Liv hissed through gritted teeth, her lower eyelid twitching with anger and irritation.

Slowly, Liv sat up, wincing, rubbing her back. The trainer had already gotten to his feet, a smirk covering his face. "You can dish it out, but you just can't take it can ya?" The trainer had smugness radiating from every orifice in his body.

"You prick, you just couldn't take being beaten by a girl, that's all," Elliot spat, helping Liv to her feet, his hand on the small of her back. His hand lingered for a moment longer than it should've been, so Olivia gave him the _hands off_ look, turning her eyes into lasers.

"I knew what I was doing, and that fall couldn't have hurt _that_ much. Your girl was just exaggerating, or maybe she's just a wimp," the jackass trainer used that opportunity to check Liv out, savoring her curves in his mind. If they could, Elliot's ears would've had steam coming out of them.

"I had to follow the steps from anger management class," Liv said, an eyebrow raised, "So I wouldn't rip your head off. It took me a little while to get my temper under control." Elliot and Liv shared a knowing look. George had been watching the whole time, and didn't think Olivia was the one who needed to calm down. Elliot's pure loathing for the guy had gotten worse during the altercation, and it would've turned ugly if there weren't so many witnesses around.

"Well, there's something you all need to improve on: your _tempers_." The trainer sneered this through his teeth, but had resumed his formal stance with his feet squared. "When you defend yourself, you cannot lose control of your emotions. You have to be calm, so you can find the weaknesses in your opponent quickly..."

"Like Liv did, before _you_ lost control?" Elliot interrupted, his face twisted into a small smirk. "She saw your weakness, and went for it." He said this innocently, as if the trainer had not already been reminded of his defeat.

The trainer ignored Elliot, and resumed his speech. During which, Alex and Casey had already started texting. "Make sure that your opponent cannot predict what you are about to do..." he droned, repeating his previous statements by rephrasing them. Even George was getting bored, which was saying something. Instead of listening, George decided to read Alex and Casey's messages.

_**Soo bored. Would've thought self defense training was more interesting. Even Huang has more intriguing things to say- KC**_. George read this last line, and glared at Casey. She met his eyes, smiled mischievously, and flipped him off. "_Oh, it's on!"_ George mouthed to her, not really knowing what was on. Suddenly, Alex elbowed him in the stomach, and nodded towards the trainer, who had started explaining how to ward off an attack from behind.

"You see, it's all about leverage," the trainer sounded excited, probably because he loved this part of the lecture. "If you want to flip the attacker over your shoulder, you have to know where the best place is to focus your energy on." The trainer's demeanor had softened; he had warmed up to the idea of teaching newbies, simply because he loved teaching new moves. Elliot had lowered his guard, and no longer wanted to castrate the guy.

George was stunned by the sudden change in the trainer's mood: before he had been resentful, angry, even. But now, he seemed to glow with a kind of excitement that only comes when he got to show off what he knew. George juggled with several different ideas before settling on one: 'roid rage. When he whispered this to Alex, she nodded, and texted the sentiment on to Casey. Casey spread the rumor to Olivia. She agreed, but didn't repeat it to Elliot. He didn't need to know.

"Elliot, right?" The trainer asked, in a friendly tone. Elliot nodded, dumbfounded in the swing of behavior. "Your tricep muscles are pretty strong, so you might be able to swing someone over, by their wrist, and armpit. But, someone like Agent Huang would have to do what I'm about to show you." The trainer mimed someone grabbing ahold of an attacker from the rear.

"You see, as the human body rotates, it is still being pulled down by gravity, so you have to assist it on its way around by adding extra momentum. Once the attacker's feet are off the ground, you need to bring your forearm behind you," he demonstrated this, "and push it against the attacker's stomach, further bringing him up, and over. You make your arm into kind of a windmill, by rotating it, and ensuring that the attacker makes it all the way to the ground in front of you."

He demonstrated this, by rotating his entire arm from behind him, over his head, and down to the mat. "I want you guys to pair off, and practice this on the mats. Miss Cabot," he gestured to Alex, "you can practice on me." And so it began, with Elliot and Olivia, and George and Casey.

George was having trouble getting Casey over his shoulder. She had a loose chokehold on him, but her breasts were pressing into his back, and that made it hard for him to concentrate. He wasn't exclusively attracted to Casey, but he acknowledged that she was pretty hot. She was breathing hard on the back of his neck, and he could smell her breath mints.

"C'mon George, be a man," she murmured, her voice husky. That was all it took. With a grunted effort, he flung her over his shoulder, flipping her onto her back. Her hazel eyes were wide from slight pain in her lower back. She winced when he helped her sit up, but smiled mischievously, before she pulled him down onto the mat. He landed solidly, with a soft _thwap!_ He began to chuckle with Casey, as they watched the other two pairs.

Alex had already thrown the trainer to the mat, twice, and was enjoying doing it a third and fourth time. Elliot and Olivia, however, were a different story altogether. Olivia was struggling: Elliot was poking her in her ticklish spots with his free hand whenever she had gotten close to flipping him. It looked like she was going to finally do it, but dissolved into giggles when he lightly jabbed her ribs. She looked like she was giving up.

Until, that is, she elbowed him in the stomach. Hard. He grunted loudly, and she swung him down. Unfortunately, she tripped, and fell on top of him when she was walking around to help him up. Elliot smiled up at Liv, whose breasts were firmly pressed against his chest. Their entire bodies were pressed together, which made Casey and George raise their eyebrows surprise. They lay there for about ten seconds, their eyes locked, breathing on each others' faces.

Then, George saw Elliot's face redden, and he stiffened. Oh, and his whole body went rigid, too. (**Geddit?)** Liv's smile vanished instantly, as she felt his cock harden, and press up against her.  
"I, uh, Liv, I'm sorry, it's just 'cause we're working out, and I haven't been with anyone in a while," Elliot stammered out. Liv's gaze darkened, and Casey shook her head. "You know it's not because I'm with you…" he trailed off, and he realized that he'd just said the wrong thing. Casey murmured, "You idiot," under her breath.

Liv pushed herself off of him, her expression calm, her eyes blank. She grabbed her bag, which had been resting in the corner, and told the trainer she was leaving early. He nodded, and replied that she was to come back next week for the next session. Alex, having not seen the incident, watched Liv sulk off with a puzzled look. She look at Casey for help, who mouthed, "_Later_," to Alex. Alex nodded, and glared at Elliot, who, as she saw it, was the root of her friend's problem.

Elliot, if it was possible, felt just as bad, or maybe worse, than Liv felt. He felt like a jackass, and he needed to make it up to her. But how?

** Yay! All done with that chapter! Spent three fucking weeks on it, and finally finished! So, I have questions for you guys: What pairings should I have for Alex, Casey, and George? What things would you like them to do undercover? I need all the help I can get! Review please!**


	3. Because of You

**Because of You**

**AN: This might be kind of a short chapter, but it does reveal some interesting things about Miss Benson. And this is kind of a song chap, Because of You, by Kelly Clarkson. Thanks for sticking around for another chapter, btw. This kind of touches on the fact that Captain IS trying, unsuccessfully, to get El, and Liv together. **

Liv sighed, sore from the first round of the fucking self defense class. Her back ached, and her triceps burned, but her heart was drowning everything else out. It was pounding in her ears, the kind of feeling one would get when anger tries to morph into calm. Her throat constricted when she thought about what Elliot had said. Sure, she was kind of surprised when she felt him go hard against her, but it was a flattering surprise.

She wasn't going to maim him for having a hormonal imbalance; she understood that men sometimes found fighting a woman sexually stimulating. But, what she didn't understand was the fact that her tried to find an excuse for it, and insulted her instead. He was her best friend, just a friend, but that didn't mean that he couldn't find her attractive. He didn't come outright, and say it, but she got the gist. He didn't find her to be attractive, or beautiful, as she sometimes considered herself to be. This was not one of those times.

That was probably why- instead of collapsing on her own couch, in solitude, and sob herself to sleep- she chose to come to Fin's apartment. It wasn't a very large space, but it fulfilled the requirements that Fin had been looking for. Single bedroom, one full bath, a kitchen, and a modest den was what the realtor had explained to him, and he had fallen in love with it. The den was where he entertained, on the few occasions that he had company, and held a reasonable amount of furniture.

A black sectional took up most of the space, comfortable seating six. A tv rested on a wooden stand, huddled in the corner. Its glass face was blank tonight; no one was in the mood to watch tv. When Olivia had called, and asked to come over, Fin had enlisted Munch and Don Cragen to come and visit as well. So, that was how Liv had ended up lying horizontally on the couch, her head on a pillow in Fin's lap. Her socked feet were propped up on Munch's lap, who was sitting on the end of the couch.

Each was equally concerned for the feelings of the woman lying with them. Munch had arrived to Fin's apartment first, so they both witnessed Liv's breakdown at the door. Her eyes were glassy, and refused to met either of theirs. She looked like hell, and when Fin put his hand on her shoulder, and asked her if she was okay, she staggered forward, into their outstretched arms.

So here she lay, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her arms folded protectively over her chest. Fin was stroking her hair, letting it sprawl all over the pillow in his lap. Munch was massaging her feet, in slow, soothing circles. Liv was staring at the ceiling, her chocolate brown eyes lost in the memories of her past. Suddenly, her breath hitched, when she hit a bad memory, and a fresh wave of tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Just let it out, honey. Don't let it bottle up," Fin murmured soothingly, gently stroking her hair. Munch whispered, "It's okay," to her, letting Liv know that she could tell them anything.

Suddenly, the apartment door was knocked on. "It's unlocked, Cap, come on in!" Fin yelled. Liv tensed, and tried to sit up, but Fin gently pushed her back down. "It's okay, he's on our side, remember?" He murmured soothingly, rubbing her shoulders.

"Guys?" Don's booming voice questioned from the kitchen. "In here," Munch said, much more quietly. This conveyed the solemn nature of the situation. Don's sillouette cast a shadow over the couch, but Liv barely glanced at him. Her eyes were back to being glued to the ceiling, but tears were streaming out of them.

_I cannot cry, because I know that's weakness in your eyes_

_I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh, every day of my life_

_My heart cannot possibly break, because it wasn't whole to start with_

His faint smile died instantly when he saw the state Olivia was in. "Oh my god, Liv, are you okay?" Her lower lip quivered as she struggled to answer him.

When she answered him, her voice trembled. "Okay isn't how I'd put it," she closed her eyes in shame, and let her tears flow. She hated crying in front of these men, whom she saw every day. She was afraid of them seeing her as a weak, porcelain doll, who broke easily. It was even worse to have the Captain here, but at least it wasn't Elliot. Don pulled up a chair, sitting next to her, and took her hand into his.

"Tell us what happened, Olivia," he said gently, but not without a commanding tone.

She inhaled shakily, and tried to explain: "That trainer of yours, who had a serious case of steroid induced mood swings, put us into groups of two, to _practice_ that damn attacker-from-behind move." She paused, and opened her eyes, but didn't look at any of them as she continued. "I tripped , and fell after I grounded him. On top of him, can you believe it?" No one needed to guess who "he" was. "H-he… um," her voice broke, and looked at Don.

"He won't get in trouble for what I'm about to tell you, is he?" Don shook his head, prodding her to go on.

"He… got aroused. Or… at least his body did. He said it was because he hadn't gotten any in a while, and 'cause he was exercising. Not… b-because it was me on top of him." Tears had began to stream down her face again, and her voice broke into a sob.

"Is that why you're upset?" Fin asked her, using the same tone of voice he used on victims. Liv, still sobbing, shook her head.

"T-that's n-not why," she hiccupped. "I-it's what my d-drunk of a m-mother used to t-tell me all the time." She paused to look at their furious faces. "_You'll n-never g-get a man with y-your face, Olivia," _she mocked. "_You're n-not pretty enough t-to go to college. I don't want to b-be seen with a pig like you." _

She began to sob again. Don was shaking his shiny head.

_I will not make the same mistakes that you did_

_I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery_

_I will not break the way you did, you fell so hard_

_I've learned the hard way to never let it get that far_

"Liv, you know that your mother was like that because of events set in motion long before you were born," Don said, squeezing her hand. "She didn't want to be seen with her rapist's child, not because your looks repulsed her."

She shook her head. "My mom overstepped the boundaries of what a mother should say to her child about sex. _Your man's dick would get soft halfway through, 'cause you're so loose._ What kind of mother tells her twelve year old daughter that she is _loose_?"

Don traced a swirling pattern on the back of Liv's hand. Fin stroked her hair, and Munch rubbed her feet. All were trying to absorb what she had confided in them. All couldn't grasp how a mother could hate her child, no matter what the father had done. They all wanted, desperately, to protect what no longer needed protecting. They wanted to know exactly how fucked up Olivia's mother was.

_I watched you die, I heard you cry every night in your sleep_

_I was so young, you should have known better than to lean on me_

_You never thought of anyone else, you just saw your pain_

_And now I cry in the middle of the night, for the same damn thing_

"Olivia, you need to remember that though your family by blood was shitty, you've still got us. We're your family. And, even though it may not feel like it, Elliot is too," Munch said.

"Elliot, now there's someone truly fucked up," Liv sighed. "But that, I'm afraid, is something to be explained with a drink in hand." That was it. That was all she could utter out before she succumbed to silence. She didn't want to talk about it was the bottom line. Talking about Elliot and her mother in the same night was something too painful to bear.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she yawned. Don realized just how exhausted everyone was. Munch was dead on his feet, well, he was sitting down, but that's not the point. Fin's hand was moving slower and slower, and even Liv, who adjusted to stress so well, seemed to be buckling under the pressure. Even Donald Cragen himself was starting to feel like he was swimming through sand.

"I do not need to see any of you tomorrow," He said to them. Normally, they would've said that they could handle it, but now all they did was nod. Liv, bleary eyed, mouthed 'thanks' to him. He nodded to all of them, stood up, and left without another word.

If someone had walked in at that moment, all they would've seen was three grown adults fast asleep on the couch. Only Olivia was lying all the way down, but the two guys wouldn't have it any other way. The only movement was the rising and falling of their chests, and their nostrils flaring every so often to inhale deeply. This was their only peacetime, the only place they could run to get away from their problems: sleep.

It was as if everything was alright, if only for that short amount of time.


	4. In da Pub

**AN: Alright, first of all, I would like to thank those who have waited soooooo friggin' long, and have not abandoned all hope. I could blame the hiatus on bronchitis, or my school work, or writer's block, but to tell you guys the truth, I've just been too damn lazy to write. That is going to change, I swear it will!**

**Only a couple more chapters before the undercover part of the fic. This chapter is basically summing up what Casey, George, and Alex have been doing the past two weeks since they were first introduced to the operation. **

"Hey guys," Casey called, parking her sore-from-extreme-exercise butt on the stool next to the bar. Alex and George shot her a relieved look; apparently, they had ended their last conversation with an awkward silence. Each had a drink in hand, and George slid Casey a beer. George looked extremely tense, as if he were uncomfortable with the mere subject of going out with friends.

They opted not to go to a cop bar, so they ended up at a pub a couple blocks from the 1-6. It was pretty crowded, but nobody was getting too rowdy. The music, which was being played overhead, had lost its lyrics to the conversations of the customers. Not many were sitting at the bar, most were either standing, or sitting in tables and booths.

"How's it been going?" Casey prompted, begging them with her eyes to respond. George grimaced, and took a gulp of his beer. Alex looked at him with a pained grimace, and shot a look at Casey. "What's with him?" She mouthed at Alex.

"His language class isn't going too well," Alex stated, pursing her lips. Apparently, she wasn't enjoying hers, either. Casey's expression became confused.

"George, you're already fluent in Chinese, why on earth would you be taking class…" She stopped, and became even more confused when she saw Alex stifle a smile.

"Slang," George mumbled, putting his face in his hands. He turned his head to glare through his fingers at Alex, who was trying to stifle her giggles.

"What, George?" Casey asked, not hearing correctly.

"I'm taking private 'slang' classes," he stated, irritably. Alex burst out laughing, which of course, made Casey giggle too.

"Tell her," Alex managed to gasp between giggles, "Tell her what you've learned to say." She sent Casey an anticipatory glance.

George sighed in irritation, turned to Casey and said, "Damn, girl, you womacho!" The women burst into laughter, drawing attention of many of the bar goers. George blushed ashamedly, and took another gulp of beer. When they had calmed down, George said, "It means…" apparently trying to define the word.

"I know what that means, and thank you, I think," Casey said, blushing.

Alex rolled her eyes at their pathetic attempt at flirting. _George is such a guy. Can't he tell that Casey likes him without her throwing herself on top of him?_

"George," Casey said, interrupting Alex's musings. "Is that really all you've learned how to say? Can't you order drinks, or something?" She batted her eyelashes, just waiting for George to show off.

He smiled wryly. "I'll see what I can remember," he whistled to the bartender. "Yo, bartend! Three well rum-and-cokes on the rocks, please!"

"You don't practice slang much, do you George?" Casey asked him.

"No," George laughed, shaking his head. "I find most of it offensive, and hope that I don't have to use it. What about you, Alex? Enjoying your Swedish lessons?"

Alex snorted, "He's having me read _The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo_ in English, and Swedish. And I have to listen to Swedish jazz, _and _practice singing it! It's a nightmare!"

"At least you don't have to go to work," Casey remarked. "I still have to coach softball."

"I've been busy cleaning the apartment that they gave me," George said with a sigh, "It's a little 200 square foot closet out in Chinatown, and I'm right over the fish market. The smell is horrible."

"I could lend you some Febreze," Alex suggested. George shook his head somberly. "I get to live down in the lower east side, and live right above the dining café where I'm going to work. Just the right level of pimps go there for it to be one of those mob wannabe joints." She rolled her eyes.

"You guys are lucky. At least you get an apartment: I have to sleep in the basement of my new bodega! It's in Chinatown, too." Casey added, giving George a significant _look_.

"Maybe I'll see you there!" George suggested, a grin lighting up his face. Alex yawned, and looked at her watch in boredom.

"Holy Shit!" Alex exclaimed. "It's half past midnight!" Casey and George sent her a look that said 'And?'

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I've got to get up early tomorrow to work out," Alex drained the cheap rum and cola, which the bartender had just set down, and paid her bill.

"Just like that, and you're leaving?" Casey asked in a quiet wonder.

"Yes, just like that!" Alex snapped, and Casey could tell that she had another motive to get going. Alex grabbed her coat- it was freezing outside- and waved goodbye. As she passed Casey, she muttered, "Date with Trevor." Casey hoped she meant Trevor Langan, the cute lawyer who was always hanging around Alex.

"Did she just remember that she had a date tonight?" George asked. Casey nodded. "Damn."

"Well, it is kind of late," Casey said, stretching in an attempt to wriggle out of being alone with George. "I think I should head home."

"Yeah, me too," George paid for both of them, ignoring Casey's attempts to pay for it herself. Neither of them drank their rum and cola, on the grounds that the glasses looked like they hadn't been washed in ages. George stood up uneasily, and, for the first time in the evening, he looked a little intoxicated.

He staggered a little forward, and then stumbled. Casey caught him, giggling at the prospect of holding up this normally stubborn man. She held his elbow, and escorted him through the crowd of bar goers, and out onto the wet pavement. The cold air was a slap to the face, and both shivered as they waited for their taxis.

They huddled together, shivering, and exhaling with little puffs of steam. George shot a sidelong glance at Casey, and reassured himself that calling her _womacho_ was probably a good thing to do. Though she did look amazingly strong, she had soft features, and she looked a little vulnerable, too. George felt a little protective of her, but more in the big brother sort of way, and not the jealous sort of way.

When a glance turned into a stare, Casey quirked her eyebrow, and smirked at George. "Spacing off in your drunk little mind, now are we?" She asked him in a teasing tone.

"I'm not totally drunk," George said. "I'm not slurring my words." Casey laughed.

"You're drunk enough to stare at me," She joked.

"It's easy to stare at you," George replied, without any hint of teasing in his eyes. The look she gave him made him avert his eyes to his loafers.

"Well, um, thanks," Casey said after a moment of silence. They didn't say a word after that, until the cabs pulled up, three minutes later. Casey had to hold back her sigh of relief. She was mostly glad to be able to get out of the cold, but a little part of her wanted to just get away from George, whose very existence made her feel very, very awkward.

"I guess I'll see you in the morning," George said, and suddenly gave her an awkward, on armed hug, which she didn't have the chance to reciprocate. He took this as rejection, stepped back quickly, and just waved goodbye. "Bye," Casey managed to choke out from her surprise.

She felt giddy as she stepped into her own cab; the entire left side of her body was tingling from where he had touched her. _He's just being friendly_, her inner voice chided, _your insane crush on him has made you jump to conclusions. _

"It's not insane," she whispered to herself quietly, "It's just a school girl crush." That was true, she didn't like him as much as Trevor Langan liked Alex, but it was still a tiny crush. The entire ride home, she was very, very happy.

**AN: So what did you think? R&R, and I'll get another chapter up as soon as I can! Thanks again!**


	5. Why We're Here

**AN: I am on an effing roll! Four weeks without posting a single thing on facebook, blogger, or fanfiction, and I am back baby! Despite the lack of comments/ reviews, I have, by all accounts been enjoying my experience. Okay, this chapter is catching up on what everyone's been doing, what's happening now, and what's going to happen. Enjoy!**

**PS: Thanks for reading this, you guys, even if you don't like it. It really does mean a lot to me. **

"Jeez leweez, Casey, how the hell will you be able to sleep in here?" Olivia inquired, unlocking the basement door to the bodega. Their breath came out in steady puffs of clouded air. Casey was carrying a couple of boxes with her, following in behind Liv.

"I don't know, you're the one who hasn't given me the budget for the utilities," Casey huffed, setting down the couple of boxes by the mattress that was held up off the floor with dozens of outdated phone books. The basement was a lot cleaner than Casey expected, what with its neatly scrubbed tile floors, carefully aligned stock shelves, and the makeshift bedroom it housed. She opened the top box, and pulled out a set of fitted, floral print sheets.

"You know, come to think of it, you haven't even given me my alias," Casey said, arching her eyebrow at Liv with an accusatory glare.

"I told you, I can't give that out to you until the week before. Standard protocol, remember?" Liv replied in a nagging tone. "It's supposed to protect you from your own drunken confessions."

Casey snorted. "So the guy who wrote the rules thought that clean cops were going to go home, get drunk, and spill all the little secrets of the undercover operation." She rolled her eyes. "Purr-leez, what a dumb rule."

"You know, all the training that you're getting is there to protect you, but if you ignore the rules, all the training goes out the window," Liv countered. Casey was about to retaliate, when they heard someone knocking on the door of the bodega.

"I thought the door said closed on it," Casey said to Liv. More insistent knocking sounded. Olivia gave an irritated growl, and marched up the steps.

"Liv, wait," Casey said. "It's my store, I gotta go first." Liv waited for Casey to bound up the steps, before she opened the door to the store. The windows all had bars on them, and let in a scarce morning light. It looked like a convenience store at a gas station, with stacks in rows of non-perishables. It was a lot warmer in here than it was downstairs, almost a comfortable temperature. Another knock sounded.

Casey looked, and saw a group of teenagers, six of them, all boys, huddled by the entrance. Two of the boys looked eastern European, but the other four were of definite Chinese descent. All were inappropriately dressed for the winter, and were shivering violently. None of them had any meat on their bones.

"We're closed!" Casey shouted with a heavy Russian accent. She repeated it in Russian for good effect.

"We just need to warm up for a minute," one of the boys pleaded, his voice quivering from the cold. His Mandarin accent was barely noticeable. "Can we come in, please?"

Casey sighed, "_Da_, but only for a little while." Liv nodded approvingly, so Casey let them in greeting each with a small smile. She knew she had made the right decision when the boys sighed in relief from the warmth. All of their rosy cheeks were hollow, and their lips were cracked from the lack of scarves or chapstick.

Three of the boys had sorry excuses for jackets, and the rest had on tattered grey sweatshirts, much to thin to protect from the weather.

"You children ought to be ashamed for playing out in those clothes. It cannot be more than twenty degrees outside," Casey scolded, knowing full well that it was not the children's fault for being so ill dressed.

"Katya," Olivia called (in her own Russian Accent) to Casey, who guessed that was to be her alias. "You have a hot chocolate machine. I will make the boys some." Casey turned to see that Liv was pointing at a nice, not-too-fancy, coffee/ hot chocolate machine that sat behind the counter.

"But we have no money," Another one of the boys noted somberly Casey noticed how skinny and frail they all looked. She shook her head. "_Nyet. _You need not pay this time." Liv started up the machine, which hissed out frothy milk into the chocolate syrup. Casey walked over to one of the aisles, picked out six packs of mini donuts, and dispersed them in between the boys.

She helped Olivia serve them steaming Styrofoam cups of hot cocoa, which they accepted gratefully. The women noticed how the boys cherished each bite of their donuts, and each sip of their drinks, as if it were their last. The boys looked extremely malnourished, frostbitten, and exhausted, as if they had never slept or eaten anything in their lives.

After the boys finished their hot chocolates, and their packs of mini donuts, they threw the cups and plastic away in the trash can. "Thank you," The tallest boy said, his Russian accent dripping from his words. They all thanked Casey and Liv in not-so-perfect English. And then they just left, the bell on the door chiming eerily behind them.

Casey turned to Liv with the most somber expression. "That's what you're here for," Liv said.

"I thought I was busting a prostitution ring," Casey said, confused.

"You are." Liv glanced sadly at the retreating forms of the group of emaciated boys. "Those boys were probably sold by their families for food money, and then transported here with the promise of solid jobs."

"How do you know that those boys are part of this? I mean… how can you be sure?"

"A number of things: Scuff marks on the back of the boys' jackets from leaning against brick walls. A hand bruise on the back of the tallest boy's neck. The pimps probably have them wearing lighter jackets to encourage them to have less time between each trick, and get out of the cold," Liv shrugged, shaking her head.

"How can they live like this?" Casey asked, speaking to herself, mostly.

"Most of them have no other choice. They go to the police, they get deported. They run away, but they have nowhere to go. These kids have nothing outside of this. Most die during their teens, either from starvation, being beaten to death, or freezing. Some of these pimps get a thrill out of letting these kids suffer to death. _Sooskins!_" Liv spat.

Casey retreated into her mind to think. If she was having doubts of taking this assignment earlier, they were obliterated now. She had to do this. A flood of white-hot anger broke through her mind. She hated herself for being oblivious to these boys' suffering.

"How is this not public knowledge?" Casey demanded of no-one in particular.

"It is, Casey. People don't want to talk about it. Most don't even want to _think_ about it. This goes beyond simple rape or child abuse. This is pure sadism: the adults involved are either causing these kids pain, or getting off on it. Or both," Liv trailed off, startled at her expansive knowledge on the subject. Both women gazed out the window, each secretly wishing that they were back home, without this information in their minds.

As Olivia and Casey went downstairs to unpack, Elliot and George were in the process of unlocking an apartment above a fish market.

**AN: Done with this chapter. I'm really sorry for the wait, but I'm still a kid, and kids procrastinate. A LOT. I know, it annoys me too. **

**PS: This story does not have any slash, please do not ask me for slash. I will, however, write a story with slash upon request. Just not this one. Thnx**


	6. Movin' on Up

**AN: Yay! My hiatus is finally over with. Writer's block does suck doesn't it? Anyway, male bonding in this chapter, but it is not bromance. Kay peeps? El and Liv will get their shit together, but you have to hold on. **

**We left off with Elliot and George trying to get into the apartment in Chinatown. **

"Argh! Ehmahgawd!" Elliot snarled, trying to find the key that opened George's new apartment. He fumbled- with numb fingers- with the ring of beaten and unmarked keys. His cheeks were still rosy from being outside, and the snow hadn't even started to melt off his worn boots.

"Elliot, this would've been easier if you had gotten the big, freakin' heavy box, and let me open the door," George huffed out, squeezing himself and the large box through the stairwell door. It took him an entire minute to limp to the door, pausing occasionally to shift the weight. When he reached the door, he shoved the box into Elliot's waiting arms, and pulled out his own keyring.

The door was open in a matter of seconds. "How did you-?" Elliot began.

"Label maker," George sang, showing Elliot the key with a white strip taped to it that read: **Apmt. **Elliot glared at him with a look that clearly screamed: Show off!

George entered the apartment first, with Elliot trailing behind him. George made a face, inhaling deeply. "Ugh," he spat, covering his nose with his coat sleeve, "What the fuck is that _smell_?" He uttered the word as if it was the most hideous thing that could be said. Foul odor would have been better.

Elliot laughed evilly. "It's the fish market. Look outside." George opened his window, discovering that he was three stories above an outdoor fish market. The smell of raw fish assailed his senses like a slap to the face. He slammed the window shut, and whirled to face Elliot.

"Of all of the entirety that is Chinatown, why the fuck did you have to pick an apartment above the fish market?" He demanded.

"_I_ didn't pick it, the department did. It's cheap," Elliot laughed, shrugging. The apartment was tiny: 300 square feet. One full bath, one kitchen, one eensy weensy bedroom, and a moderately sized family room.

"Look, if you don't like it, you could always pay for a different one," Elliot offered. "But, for now, it's yours." Elliot squatted to put the box down, wincing. He grunted with effort straightening out.

"Getting older?" George asked, with a mocking tone.

"I guess, but I'm still a chick magnet," Elliot replied, with cocky grin.

"Which _so_ explains why you're still single."

Elliot shot a glare at George. "_Not_ funny."

George snorted. "So Liv gets to give you shit for the divorce, and I get snapped at? C'mon, even Munch laughs at divorce jokes."

Elliot looked at his shoes. "Liv doesn't talk to me anymore. Ever since that day at self defense class she's been ignoring me as much as she can."

"Elliot, you got a _boner_, that is enough to deter any woman who is not looking to be boned," George said, with a tinge of annoyance.

"That's not it, is it? That's not why she's mad at me. Tell me," Elliot demanded, seeing the look on George's face.

George sighed. "It wasn't the boner itself that scared her off. You offended her. You told her that it wasn't she that turned you on, and that opened a whole can of insecurities."

"Is that why she's been wearing more makeup?" Elliot inquired.

"Yes. Some part of her took what you said as constructive criticism. She's trying to prove to herself that not all men think of her as unappealing."

"But she _does_ appeal to me. Can't she see the way I look at her-," Elliot broke off, sealing his lips, and donning the deer-in-headlights expression.

"Ha! I so fucking knew it!" George shouted, clapping his hands together. Elliot was shaking his head insistently. "You _love_ Olivia, don't you Elliot? Ha ha! I have dirt on you!"

"Well I know about you and Casey," Elliot blurted. That shut George up.

"Know what, exactly?" George asked suspiciously. _Shit_, he thought.

"That you both _liiiike_ each other, but neither of you does anything about it 'cause you're shy," Elliot gushed, as if talking about a recent Weeds episode.

"How the hell are we supposed to do anything? If Cragen finds out-,"

"How _will_ he, though? No one will tell," Elliot said, his grin back.

George glared at Elliot suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

"_You_ have to talk to Liv for me."

"You're such a pussy," George whined. After a moment's consideration, his face lit up. "I'll be undercover in a couple of days, so I can't. _You_ can talk to her."

"Aw, fuck you!" Elliot pouted. "I'll figure something out." Shaking his head, he turned to leave.

"Wait! Elliot, what's my name?"

"Oh shit, yeah," Elliot smacked himself on the head. "Your cover story is that you came here from Jersey, your parents immigrated from Beijing to the US a little before you were born. Your name is Steven Win, but everyone calls you Little Stevie. Here," Elliot took out a folded piece of printer paper. "This is a printout of your Facebook profile. Your password is 'hotchopstick125'," Elliot laughed momentarily.

"The guy you want to be friends with lives across the street in apartment 211. He's good friends with very powerful members of the Water Dragons," Elliot saw the look on George's face. "Their name, not mine. The Water Dragons have been linked to a human trafficking ring that brings in kids from all over Western Asia, and Eastern Europe. The kids are put to work on the streets all over the city. Your job is to infiltrate the Water Dragons, and figure out what ships they're using, who the tops guys are, and where they're keeping the kids.

"This operation is massive. We already have a couple of officers in the gang. You need to be careful to not blow their cover, as well as yours. Your apartment is wired, but you turn on the wire by saying the phrase, 'Hey guys, please come in.' The wire will shut off with a push of a button under the couch, which will be brought in tomorrow. Under no circumstances are you to call us on your burn phone. Use the payphone two blocks down. If you want out, you can say so now, or you can call us.

"If you run into Alex or Casey do not interact with them unless you absolutely have to. The same thing goes if you recognize one of the other officers, do not call them by their real name. If you slip up, it could prove deadly. You passed your firing range exams, so you are clear to use your service weapon. If there is a crime scene nearby, stay the hell away from it. We don't want a repeat of Liv from when she was in Oregon.

"If you get into a situation in which deadly force may become necessary-,"

"Elliot, I went to the briefing, I have the logistics," George interrupted.

Elliot grinned, "I know. I was surprised you let me carry one that long."

"That was painful to listen to."

"Whatever," Elliot looked at his watch. "See dude, you shoulda stopped me. I'm late to pick up the kids." With that, he bolted out the door.

"Idiot." George sighed, and followed suit, locking the door behind him. Little did they know, this operation wouldn't be by the book.

**Thank you for still being here, guys. Please review! I'm dying here!**


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